June 25th 2013, Sanctuary, Roarhaven, Ireland, 6:00 PM BST
"Have I ever told you guys," I said casually as we made our way through the passage and up to the surface. "How much I fucking hate spiders?" I grimaced down at my hands, covered in dark spider gore from yet another attack by a Child of the Spider.
Val chuckled. "I kind of like them. They're cool. Normal spiders, I mean, spider people are pretty gross."
To punctuate her point, she kicked the burnt chunk of corpse close to her foot from the last Child of the Spider. She'd killed it with extreme prejudice, and the pieces had flown pretty far. We were still stumbling on them a few minutes later. "I think you made your feelings on them pretty clear," I said dryly. "Though speaking of feelings, are you doing ok? I know you and Ravel were close."
Her eyes hardened. "I thought we were," she admitted. "I was basically an honorary member of the group. The Dead Men were Skulduggeries special ops crew back during the war. Crazy geniuses who did jobs that should have been suicide. I was proud to be a part of that."
"Betrayal," I said with a sigh. "It's always rough. I didn't know him long but I liked the guy. I guess that's the thing about traitors though. If they're evil mustache twirling murder clowns they aren't very effective at treachery, are they? It's always the ones you like that get you where it hurts."
She sneered. "I'm gonna get him where it hurts. Over and over. Until his heart gives out from the pain."
"What a healthy and well balanced attitude," I told her serenely. "You should have your own talk show." She smirked at that, raising two fingers in the british version of flipping someone off, which seemed to mostly be UK standard.
"Enough," said Skulduggery bluntly. "We're coming up on the exit. Ryan, try to tip me about any traps. You weren't wrong before, I'm the best choice for a vanguard."
His voice was colder than usual. Not Lord Vile cold though, more of an angry, spiteful chill. Skulduggery had known Erskine Ravel, Grand Mage of Ireland, for a lot longer than Val. He was one of the skeleton's oldest, closest friends, and he'd almost murdered the only closer one tonight. I didn't want to be Ravel when we made it up to him.
The end of the tunnel was a simple steel ladder bolted into the rock, a straight shot about a hundred feet up to a well maintained trap door. Spreading his wings, Skulduggery floatedsilently up the shaft to keep his hands free. When he reached the top, he extended his gauntlets, and a few thin streams of shadows emerged from his armor, slipping through the cracks around the edges of the trapped door.
There was a slight pause, then he pushed the door open and floated up into the room, gesturing us to follow. When we reached the top, I winced at the mess. Those tendrils had turned into blades and minced everything in the room like a fucking blender. My Bishop wasn't fucking around.
"Well, that escalated quickly," I said as we all reached the top. "Nat, Val, you guys play lookout. Best chance of detecting traps before they spring is divination." I reached into my pocked and withdrew a small bag. Dumping the contents into my hand, I cast a quick cleaning charm on the stone floor to dissolve the mutilated spider sorcerer mush and knelt down.
A bit of focus and a shake and I tossed out a handful of small, carved, bones. Each bone had a rune on it, and I studied them carefully before picking them up and throwing again.
Trelawney had taught me plenty of methods for divining, and I'd tried them all at one time or another. Casting wands (not to be confused with wizard wands), entrails(super gross, would not recommend), augury (birds fly in very specific patterns, not enough randomness) but the one I found the most useful was throwing bones.
This set was extremely old and had been picked up from the Black Family Vault by Sirius and given to me as a birthday present earlier in the year, and they seemed way more on the ball than most of my divining tools. After a few throws, I stood, dusting off my pants. "Alright, we should go left, and Skulduggery should proceed slowly. There's a wall trap in the first corridor. Probably something with fire."
"Stealth seems to be out the window," Val noted. "I say we just bust our way through to where the books are being kept. We can grab them all and drop them at Hogwarts, then find Ravel and turn him into jam on toast."
I just laughed at her brutal enthusiasm. My Queen needed to vent all that rage, but she still considered the big picture first. I was pretty proud of how level headed she was, I wasn't sure I'd have remained as focused. Sure enough, the trip to the archives was pretty quick. We got waylaid by a dozen children of the spider, but we made short work of them in the open space with all of us fighting.
When we arrived at the archives, I opened a circle, then summoned my Dremora to cart away all the bookshelves. We cleaned the whole place out in about ten minutes, and when we were done I saw Val's satisfied smirk. The Sanctuary as a whole had mostly been dicks to her over the years. She'd only liked the current incarnation under Ravel, and one other under a guy named Corrival who had been the former leader of the dead men.
Once we finished, I gave them a nod. "Nat, head back and start work with China on finding out more about the The Unnamed. We'll join you soon." My bishop nodded, vanishing as Skulduggery, Val and I turned to head back into the hallways. "Alright, so now we head for Ravel's meeting chamber, right?"
Val shook her head. "Tanith says he stays in a set of apartments hidden under the building. Invited her back there once. The two of them were almost a thing before Ghastly woke up."
Nodding, I gestured for her to lead the way. We'd wrecked the traps already, so at this point it was just directions. We still decided to float above the floor a bit to avoid any nasty surprises.
When we reached the right spot (apparently) we all just kind of hung there. Val looked around helplessly, then shrugged. "I know it's here somewhere, but she didn't draw me a map or anything."
I chuckled, then flicked my fingers, calling forth a heavy water serpent. I sent the ultra acidic snake down into the ground, and it melted right through the stone for about an inch before it slowed. I grimaced. "They reinforced it with some kind of magic. One second." Focusing on the snake, I pushed, my intent compacting the spell into a smaller serpent, and more than that, shifting the form into something closer to a drill.
As it spun up, I pushed it into the stone, eating it through as I bored away at the ground. Eventually, the snake punched out the other side, and I glanced into the hole, using a circle to pop down into some kind of…spacious receiving room.
The room was attached through a small archway to another, much more intimate space, and in THAT space I could see a form hunched over in front of some kind of altar.
Which…didn't bode well. Especially since the altar was piled high with what looked like blackened human hearts, burning away in a bonfire of bloody flames. "Ah, Valkyrie, Skulduggery," purred the familiar yet oddly velvety voice of Erskine Ravel. "Your timing is impeccable."
And then he stood up. And up. And up. Because wow, that guy was much taller than I remembered him. Although some of that had to do with the horns.
A pair of absolutely massive red horns curved up from his forehead, wickedly sharp and only lightly curved. Between them hung some kind of small crown wreathed in flames. Erskine himself was a wall of muscle, and his face had changed, becoming thicker and broader, more animalistic, though I could still see echoes of his old handsome features.
His teeth were blocky and flat, taking up too much space in his oversized mouth, like blocks of shiny white stone set in a red lipped canyon that stretched up the sides of his broad face almost to the ears.
The most noticeable new feature, however, was his hand. His right hand had changed into something completely inhuman, red and rocklike, with a band of stone at the forearm and another at the wrist bracketing a cylinder of red magmatic rock that pulsed with bloody light. Seeing us staring, he chuckled, holding it up. "Lovely, isn't it?" He flexed his fingers, seemingly enjoying the low grating sound as they articulated. "A gift from my new patrons. I wasn't planning to throw in with the Faceless, honestly, but apparently since Voldemort achieved his goals he's been….erratic. They were hoping for someone with a bit more forbearance, and you don't get more patient than me."
Skulduggery stood, stiff as a statue, floating in the air with dark wings outstretched, shadows boiling off of him. "Erskine," he said, his voice a sibilant hiss. "What exactly do you think you're doing?"
The giant red beast of a man hung his head, horns scraping across the overhead stone lightly as he craned his neck forward. "I AM sorry, my friend. But this is how it had to be. The sorcerous elite have brainwashed you all so thoroughly. Play pretend, tow the line, don't let the mortals see. It's disgusting. Asking us to dance like clowns to protect their inferior sensibilities. And any time someone brings it up you all act like they're deranged. Like having to put on a show for a bunch of drooling apes is only natural."
His eyes sparked, the gold flaring as flames flickered behind the irises. "I know it's hard to understand, but everything I've done will be worth it. You'll see how right I was when I lead our people out of the shadows. And with that rabid beast Voldemort running around playing the villain with his undead army, we have the perfect chance. That was why I had to take the Faceless up on their offer. When will a chance like this come again?"
"I understand being unhappy with your lot," Skulduggery said in a velvet whisper. "Understand it, and can forgive it. But you tried to kill GHASTLY. Tried to murder our friend. And it wasn't just him, was it? You needed to become grand mage to enact this little coup. Needed the access. You didn't just try to kill Ghastly. You killed Corrival."
"I LOVED Corrival," Erskine defended hotly. "He was like a father to me." Sighing, he shook his head. "It broke my heart when I had to sign his death warrant."
Skulduggery froze, his shoulders, which had been relaxing at Ravel's first statement, going stock still…and then…he exploded. A wave of living shadow like a tsunami burst out of him, blurring forward to swallow the red form of Ravel.
The monstrous mage pulled back his hand and, clenching his stone fist, smashed it into the cloud of darkness, cracks of burning red light shattering the air itself as it fragmented the shadows, driving them back from Ravel. Screaming, Val unleashed her hellfire as I let loose a green flaming serpent, and all three of us struck out at Ravel together.
He punched again, and as we watched, the fragmented space in the air began to chip and crumble, revealing something else, something strange. A starry sky, a floating chunk of brown craggy rock in endless space. The world around us dissolved and we found ourselves standing fully on the space island, Ravel, still smiling urbanely, cracked his neck. "Sorry about that. Now we have room to stretch our legs."
June 25th 2013, ? , 7:00 PM BST
"Where have you taken us?" demanded Skulduggery coldly. "If you think a change of scenery will be enough to save you…"
Ravel smiled even wider. "I'm so glad you asked. This is the holding cell of the Ogrdu Jahad, the hounds of the Faceless. These creatures were the most powerful warriors in the service of those old things, but eventually, after the Faceless had ruled for long enough, they ran out of enemies to set them on. The Ogrdu Jahad were too vicious to be left unchecked, and were locked away, trapped in impossible glass made from the sands of time, sealed with a key."
He held up his stone right hand, wiggling the oversized rock fingers. Val glanced around worriedly. "So, where are there Ogre-dude-whatevers?"
"Why, right beneath us," he said in faux surprise. "We're standing on them."
Eyes widening, we glanced down, staring at the rock beneath our feet. Slowly, almost delicately, I wiped my foot over the rock, pushing aside the thick coating of dirt and dust to reveal…glass. But not just any glass. Strange and many angled glass that shouldn't have been possible. And inside that glass, far down into this continent sized rock we were standing on in space, I saw something else. Something indescribable and awful. And it saw me back.
I stumbled away, averting my eyes, vomiting at the sight, and Erskine clicked his tongue. "Yeah, probably should have told you not to do that. I'm impressed though. Usually people pass out and fall into a coma. Your mind is shockingly adept at processing higher dimensional constructs."
Roaring, I attacked, whirling my staff again as I called for all my Dremora, then continuing through to start snapping off colossal water and fire serpents. Val poured out a wave of hellfire as Skulduggery tried his damnedest to drown Ravel in shadows, a veritable tsunami of darkness roaring out of him to blot out the stars around us.
Shoving his hand forward, Ravel clenched his fist, and the cracks on the red stone began to glow, golden light spilling from the spaces. As he twisted his hand, golden lines burned themselves onto the air, beginning to spread out through the space and across the ground, slowly expanding over the surface of the rock. I could feel my instincts screaming, telling me that these weren't a good thing. That this was the key to this prison and it was slowly beginning to unlock.
The further it went, the faster it spread, and Ravel laughed at our expressions as the attacks bounced off the golden lines in front of him. My Dremora tried to circle around, but as we watched, the golden light purged the dust and dirt from the surface of the glass, and from within the many angles, strange forms began to emerge.
Not the Ogrdu Jahad I'd seen earlier, nothing that unbearable, but disturbing twisted monsters all the same. Hounds with dark leathery skin and too many eyes, hunched lizard people with dripping fangs, batlike monsters with tentacular faces, their unnatural appendages whipping through the air in jerky, unsettling twitches.
"The least of the Ogrdu Jahad," he bellowed with a wide grin. "But still enough to deal with you three, I think. Apologies again that it's come to this, Skulduggery. But know that I'm building a better world for our people."
I snorted, and they all looked at me. "Sorry, it's just, the word 'people' is carrying a lot of water there, given your horns and carmine complexion. Pretty sure you're a straight up demon at this point, which, admittedly, is kind of rich coming from me. Anyway, how does ending the world make things better for sorcerers?"
"The Faceless made a deal with Voldemort," he said lazily. "If he succeeds in bringing them back, they'll imbue him with even more of their power. He'll become their herald, to be sent out into myriad worlds to conquer in their name. Immortality, unending bloodshed. He's dragging his feet, so I was able to make a competing agreement another of their number. If I help them cross over instead, they're willing to grant our world protected status after they annihilate the mortals."
Val scoffed. "Of course you'd think that was a good offer. Well, we aren't going to allow you to unleash these things. We'll stop you AND Voldemort. If there's even a speck of the old you left in there, you'll tell us exactly how he plans to open the gate for them. The only thing I know of that can do it is the Grotesquery, or what's left of it. The Isthmus anchor…" she froze, her face going pale. "A teleporter. He needs a teleporter. He's not just randomly attacking settlements, he's looking for FLETCHER."
I hadn't heard that name in a while. Val's teleporting ex had been possessed back at the Midnight Hotel and vanished shortly after. I turned to her in confusion. "I'm lost here, back up a bit?"
"The Faceless Ones are in another reality. An actual alternate world. Skulduggery was there for a bit, but in order to cross back and forth you need an Isthmus Anchor and a teleporter. An item that is a piece of something still in the other world to help anchor the portal is called an Isthmus Anchor. Like we used Skulduggery's skull to get him back when he was trapped."
"Ok, well that's good to know," I chimed in. "But we're kind of dealing with a different apocalypse right now. Sounds like Voldemort is half assing the search anyway, but right now we need to prevent…" I waved my hand around us. "This bullshit."
As I spoke, I flexed my will, sending my Dremora circling around to attack, but his ever growing army of monsters intercepted them, dragging them down with sheer numbers.
Val, however, was just…staring. Something attacked her, a tentacle bat, and I swatted it down, glaring at my Queen. "Val! Not the time to space out!"
"I knew it the whole time," she whispered. "It was the hand. It reminded me. It's just like Serpine's. He was there when I saw it. A page in a book, just lying open on the floor. I mean, I knew it was me. I saw the vision. But it didn't…fit. I wasn't right for it. Like a lock with a key that's just a little off center. But now it fits. Now I can feel it. Feel her."
I turned to Val cautiously. "What exactly can you feel?"
"Darquesse," said Skulduggery worriedly. It was jarring to hear his voice shift away from the cold implacability of hate it had been stuck in since we found out about Ravel. "Valkyrie don't-"
"Yes," she agreed dreamily. "Darquesse."
And then she fucking EXPLODED. Darkness poured off of her, billowing around us, not as an attack, but just like some kind of supernatural bodyheat. It was just a side effect of her existing in this space, and unending well of primordial blackness fountaining up from inside her. It flowed past my feet, not touching me, but when it struck the gold it started to spark and burn, causing the light to flicker.
"What are you doing?" snapped Ravel as he stared at her. "Where is that power coming from? Was that your true name? Darquesse? I order you to stop. Desist. Cut it out!"
She just smiled at him coldly, the light in her eyes having been swallowed by pools of inky black. "Sorry Skinny, your humanity card has been revoked. You don't count as part of the true name system anymore. Don't have one because all you are is a key now. I can see that clear as day. Now, why don't you put away your little toybox. I'm not done with the world yet. Don't want it getting wrecked before I get my turn."
She flicked her fingers and the wave of shadows congealed into a battering ram, smashing into the gold shield in front of him. One, two, three, and the shield shattered, the ram smashing into Ravel and then just…destroying him. He was sucked into it the black, swallowed up and then mashed and pulped. The darkness spit out his stone hand a second later, and it fell to the ground, with a clatter.
The golden light faded from the surface, the monsters vanishing like ash on the wind, and Val, or rather, Darquesse, turned to smirk at me. "Well, look at that. The big boss couldn't handle one pesky little monster mage, but I cleaned him up right quick. Guess that makes me the stronger devil, doesn't it MY KING?"
Her eyes were fixed on me like a snake tracking a mouse, and I met them calmly. "Wand wizards don't have true names," I said casually. "But sorcerers do. Skulduggery."
"Valkyrie, STOP." She froze, eyes going wide as her body locked up.
I strolled up to her. "I AM your king," I told her bluntly. "I am in charge. Or rather, I'm in charge of Val. I decide what she does, and who she is, and I don't agree to her becoming you. The true name is a weakness, and you're an annoyance, so I'm going to take care of both of them at once."
Putting my left hand on her forehead, I looked into her eyes as my right tightened around my staff. Then I started making a spell. Or at least, I envisioned one. Devil magic was all imagination, if you could dream it you could do it.
Sometimes the balance there could be wonky, not enough intent to corral the magic or vice versa, but that was mostly wizard spells. Devil magic was wild, chaotic, and all you needed was the will and the word and the wherewithal to get it done. So I focused on what I wanted, on sealing Val's true name and her evil alter ego with it, on shutting Darquesse back in her box and leaving my Queen with her full powers intact.
I formed an image in my mind of what I wanted, I built it and shaped it, I crafted it from my intent, honed through years of magic training. Then I pulled on the bond I had to Val, the connection that made her my Queen, and I wrapped the spell around it like a filter, ready to alter the power of anything I put in.
Tightening my grip on my staff, I reached into it and PULLED. A world of power, the demonic strength of an entire pocket dimension, expanding all the time and fuelled by the strength of fifteen powerful Dremora surged through me. I poured it into the bond, shaped and given purpose by my will, and I kept pouring.
Val's inky black eyes flashed red, her body jerked, and I ignored her, shoving my magic into her through the link. In my research, I'd learned the sealing process for the true name was to engrave it in symbols on the heart. I didn't have access to her heart, but I had something better. I had access to her evil piece, and I had the symbols I needed from the Spells of Astaroth.
I found the ones I needed, my instincts helping me narrow it down, and then I started to engrave, the same way I'd engraved the allure ward, but more personalized. I carved the spell into her, along with her name, and as I finished, she screamed, red energy erupting from her mouth and eyes.
Skulduggery caught her as she collapsed, and we waited carefully. Finally, she woke up, and I held my breath. "Val?" I asked cautiously.
"What the hell did you do to my head?" she moaned. "I feel like a pack of wild buffalo are stampeding across my eardrums." Laughing, I confirmed with my instincts that she was really ok, and then helped her up.
"You're welcome," I said with a chuckle. "Now why don't we get the hell out of here. This place gives me the creeps, and we have a new lead on Voldemort to follow up." I'd have Flamel look her over to be sure she was ok, but for now…the danger had passed. It was time to go home.
June 26th 2013, Hogwarts Library , Hogwarts, Scotland, 5:00 PM BST
The next day was a busy one. With Ravel gone and all of the Sanctuary's books with us, we had more than enough material to start searching for leads. Hermione had been roped into the search, and China seemed to have taken a shine to the fat bottomed bookworm, delighting in sharing her love of books with the younger generation.
Val, meanwhile, was still recovering from the binding. My spell had drained me, the staff, and even her own evil piece to fuel a process that, had I been missing any of the factors involved, would have been impossible.
Her evil piece restrained her true name, the Spells of Astaroth demonic symbols manipulated demonic energy in unique ways, and the colossal amount of power I'd drawn from my full complement of Dremora and a world of my own made it all possible.
Not that I regretted it. Even if I hadn't been willing to sacrifice my power for Val (which I was), her binding had an unexpected side effect that was paying dividends.
The connection between us was open, and her power was overflowing. She was still recovering, and her evil piece was drained, but once it filled back up, the overwhelming strength of a true name sorcerer boosted by the power of a Queen piece would flow through me and into the staff like a waterfall.
I was fairly certain I could hit high class within the next few weeks, and the staff's world would be expanding rapidly. My split second decision to help my friend had been a good one from any perspective.
Sadly, the news wasn't ALL good. We knew what Voldemort wanted now, and it was a problem. "So, we know Voldemort was involved with the attack on the Midnight Hotel to free the Remnants. But if he just needed Fletcher, why risk him to try to release them all?" Asked Daphne solemnly as we all sat around a table in the library.
"Necromancy," said Skulduggery. "His army of undead is powerful, but aside from Wormtail, they're not on the level where they can effectively stand against some of the more dangerous forces waiting in the shadows. The Vampires, for example, are unlikely to be easily influenced. The Remnants provide a power boost and a method of control all in one."
"I suspect," said Natasha calmly. "That Voldemort ordered the Remnant in Fletcher to do this in an attempt to form his own army to resist his masters. The Faceless can't be trusted, and Voldemort is notoriously paranoid. If anything, he may have arranged for Fletcher to escape on purpose, to buy time for his attempts to enhance his forces, so he can negotiate with The Faceless on more even terms when he finally fulfills his part of the bargain."
Looked at from that perspective, a lot of things made sense. Voldemort trying to gather power before the Faceless arrived made sense. "But if that's the case, why would he be actively searching for him now. Assuming he is."
"The New Moon," Skulduggery said. "There are thirteen in a year. Delaying is one thing, but if he misses the window for this month, which is on July eighth, The Faceless are likely to take it as an insult. Negotiating with them from a position of strength would be tolerated as long as he was respectful, but The Faceless don't abide failure."
I groaned. "Ok, so we need to kill the bastard AND prevent him from finding the possessed teleporting lunatic that can help him rip a hole into a hell dimension to release a bunch of lovecraftian ghost gods. Fantastic. Speaking of, you girls have any leads on killing him?"
China beamed at Hermione. "Well, with such a brilliant little assistant I've been working at maximum efficiency. The good news is, we've identified how The Unnamed was defeated last time. The bad news is that he isn't dead, they just shunted him into the Darklands, where he remains prisoner to this day."
"So…we have nothing?" I asked in frustration. "This was all pointless?"
She shook her head. "Not exactly. You see, in studying The Unnamed, we believe we've uncovered the process they used to achieve their state. The Unnamed was a master Necromancer as well as wizard. He managed, much like Voldemort did, to recreate Necromancy as a wizard, inverting his spells to recreate the effects of a branch of sorcery.
"While wizards don't have a true name in the sorcerous sense, Necromancy is the inversion of magic, and they DO have a Necromantic true name. The process of uncovering and binding it is complicated and involves an extreme amount of death, but we believe that's how he managed to become what he is. The Sorcerers who dealt with The Unnamed didn't have the context to understand what they were dealing with, and so they had no idea how to defeat him."
I grinned at her. "But we do," I finished for her. "So, how do we do it?"
"Godslayer weapons," she said firmly. "They were made to kill the Faceless, which means they destroy on a spiritual level. If you want to destroy the Necromantic equivalent of a true name sorcerer, you need to destroy the spirit, where the name resides. Luckily, we happen to know where to get those."
"Or rather, I do," cut in Tanith smugly. "I happened to be on a crew who stole four of them years ago. I don't have any on me, and I honestly don't know where they went…but I did learn some very interesting things during my preparations. Namely, how they were created and where."
That brought me up short. "So you're saying we can make our own?" I asked with interest. "I don't want to risk the staff, but we have a few other items we could work with. Where exactly is this special place?"
She jerked a thumb at Val. "Under her house."
We all turned to stare at my Queen, who looked dumbfounded. "Wait…it's where? What do you mean it's under my house?"
"Just what I said," Tanith shrugged. "Gordon was one of the world's leading experts on Ancient magic. He built his estate on top of the caves where the godkillers were created. The process I have no idea about, but we know someone we can ask."
Val nodded. "Echo Gordon," she said. "The Echo stone would have stored all his knowledge on the subject. He can tell us how to make a weapon that can kill Voldemort."
"Not alone," I said bluntly. "If we're doing this, we need someone with experience. Someone with a dozen lifetimes of practice making powerful items. We need Flamel. Nat, obviously you could be helpful too, and I won't turn down Amelie. But Flamel is our best bet at creating a proper weapon in a decent amount of time."
So we left the library. China and Hermione decided to dig into the books to try to find some way to track a teleporter and to hopefully remove the Remnant from Fletcher without killing him, which would render the whole thing pretty much moot anyway since he would never open the portal if he wasn't possessed.
Flamel, meanwhile, was up in Dumbledore's office, enjoying a cup of tea with the headmaster, and when we approached him, he seemed more than willing to discuss things. "A weapon synthesis using Ancient magic techniques?" He said with interest. "That sounds fascinating. I would need to see the construction premises and speak to this…Echo Gordon, but I'd certainly be interested in taking a look."
"Which brings us to the main problem," I grimaced. "Voldemort has hit Ireland with a vengeance. Sanctuary aside, Val's house is pretty close to Dublin. We might be noticed."
"Easily addressed," Skulduggery all but purred. "You can simply allow me to wreak havoc among his army to draw attention. Unless he or Wormtail appear in person, chances are good none of them can hurt me, and even Wormtail should be possible to deal with. I can take Tanith and the Rooks. Valkyrie will obviously need to go with you."
I didn't like that. Distraction missions were dangerous, and sending two of my girls and members of my peerage out to roust an army of dangerous undead specifically so they would get attacked gave me a bad feeling. I considered our options, then finally said. "If we're doing this, we need to do it right. Four of you won't be enough to get all eyes on. Not without Val and I there. We need to up the ante. Give me a minute." Opening a small circle, I called Seras up to the office, and when she arrived I filled her in on the plan. She was fine with it as it was, but I pitched my secondary idea to her. "Can you gather the Vampires? I know we have a deal with Roran, but I don't know what timescale they move at."
She pondered. "I think I could get them together within a day or two. Might need to provide some travel accommodations. They don't exactly concentrate. You want to use them to attack the army and pull focus?"
"Yup. Between Alucard and Roran and whoever that other Master Roran mentioned was, Wormtail and even Voldemort should be manageable. They might not win, but they can hold them off while you all retreat." Especially Alucard, who was a devil vampire with several centuries on Seras.
"I'll get in touch with them," she said diligently. "When exactly do you want to do this? And why can't we just teleport into the caves and avoid all of this? Ireland is a big place, why do you think they'll notice."
"Tanith says Gordon had the caves warded," I sighed. "We don't have permissions, and the Echo Stone is just a recording. It can't give them to us. We need to bust them open to get in. Not to mention Voldemort took the Sanctuary. They had that mad of magic used in Ireland they used to find us for Iscariot, we have to assume he'll use it."
We'd actually wanted to take the map when we fled the Sanctuary, but the Roarhaven mages had hidden everything, and we didn't have time to do a thorough search before Voldemort's forces managed to break in. We'd freed a few prisoners and brought them back here with us, but we hadn't gotten most of the really useful magical artifacts.
Still, we had a plan. In order to increase our odds though, we needed some advance preparation time. So I had Tanith, the fastest of us, teleport to Val's parents place and run to Gordon's to get the Echo stone. Hopefully the miles of distance would prevent anyone who dropped in to check out who had jumped in from connecting it to the estate, if they even bothered reporting it.
With the stone in our possession, Nat, Flamel, and Amelie began consulting him on the process of creating a godkiller weapon. We needed to make best use of our time when we sprung our distraction, or we might not finish it. The delay might actually help, giving Val time to recover and me time to upgrade to high class with the excess power she was feeding back to me through the link.
I could feel my heart pounding at the thought of what was coming. This was going to be it. Once we had the weapon we would take the fight to Voldemort. With all his Horcruxes gone, this would be the final battle, and we could finally kill the bastard once and for all.
Silently, I sent a quick thought to my dad, hoping wherever he was, he was happy to be avenged. Once Voldemort was gone…well, I'd still need to deal with Gaunter, though who knew how I'd manage that. Oh well, one problem at a time. For now, I had an invincible Lich to kill.
June 27th 2013, Red Dragon Curiosities, London, England, 8:00 PM BST
Roran made pretty good time gathering the other vampires. Admittedly, Alucard was already onboard, as was Phantomas, but Roran had managed to contact the other Master he'd mentioned, Zellman Clock out of Poland. With them here, they'd recruited a dozen elders, and they'd all been gathered in the basement of Red Dragon to sign the mutual defense pact Seras had negotiated.
That said, the vampires were less stratified than I'd expected, and it was far from a universally approved decision.
"A Grand Pact is a ridiculous undertaking," said a chinese female vampire named Meng Die. "It's too big of a risk with that corpse running around with his undead army. Especially with a CHILD as a binder."
Roran sneered at her. "Watch yourself, girl. That child is of my line, and Alucard's personal tutelage. She's of noble lineage, and not someone a peasant like yourself can cast aspersions on."
The younger vampire bared her fangs. "Peasant? I was turned during the boxer rebellion by William the Bloody. I'm of the Aurelius line."
"Enough," said the red haired master. "I didn't come here to listen to children squabble." We all turned to look at him, and I had to admit, even after being in the room with him for a while, I couldn't quite get my head around Zellman Clock. The red haired, red eyed man looked to be in his early twenties, and wore a beanie and a track suit, a single gold hoop earring hanging from each ear.
He looked like a rich kid who was really into rap music, but even at a glance my instincts SCREAMED that he was a terrible danger to me, even with my current strength. I wasn't sure how old Zellman was, but Alucard and Roran both treated him as senior, and even Phantomas showed the red haired Master careful respect.
At his comment, everyone shut up, even Roran, and the Polish vampire turned to Seras. "Make your case, fledgeling."
"Look, we know this isn't ideal," said my Rook firmly. "The Grand Pact is a heavy responsibility. Once made, it MUST be honored, but there are advantages as well. Once the Pact is bound, we'll all be linked. Necromancy won't be able to affect one without taking us all, and you all KNOW what a danger that is right now. Voldemort has the entire remaining Necromancer temple under his sway, and his own power has reached absurd proportions."
She glanced at the Masters. "I'm well aware that the three of you aren't susceptible to such a blatant violation, but that protection doesn't extend to the rest of us. If we form the Pact, it will. Your supreme power will keep us safe from the Necromancers, and we can destroy Voldemort and his army, ridding the world of a crucial vampiric weakness once and for all."
"That's all well and good," said a golden haired vampire who looked like a male model. "But why are YOU the binder? The concentration of blood from a Pact of this scale will push you to elder status, but the rest of us are already elders. This level of pact could create a fifth master if done correctly, are any of us really willing to give that up?"
"Hansel is right," said a tall, brooding looking vampire who looked like a viking warrior. The two of them had arrived together, and he'd been introduced to me as Eric Northman. "The smartest play would be to have the eldest of us bind the pact. Another master could be created."
A dark skinned woman, who I was pretty sure was named Akasha, snorted. "I had no idea you were such a strong supporter of mine, Northman. As the oldest here, I would be the natural choice. I would happily accept such an offering were you all to make it." She grinned at Seras. "What say you girl?"
"You're certainly older than us," agreed Northman. " But being over six millennia and not reaching Master status is nothing to be proud of."
My mother had explained that most Elders became Elders at a millennia, and that Master vampires usually evolved at around ten thousand. According to Seras though, the speed you could evolve was dependent on a number of factors, namely the potential in your own blood, what some vampires call "talent".
Alucard, Zellman, and Phantomas were all considered monsters for becoming Masters within their first few millennia, with Alucard being a singularly terrifying exception to the usual rules at only a few hundred years. I knew, of course, that the reason for this was because of his devil nature, but to the rest of them, he just seemed like a supremely talented singularity.
Ten thousand years to Mastery was the very lowest level of talent a vampire could have, and Akasha being six thousand and still an Elder pretty much made her a joke. I didn't know what order Elder Akasha was (Roran was not, as my mom had assumed, a second order Elder, but an eighth, making him one of the strongest non masters here), but Northman seemed to command quite a bit of respect, so I was guessing he was strong for his age.
The other Elders here were mostly in the one or two millennia range, and being at the same level as the rest of them when she was so much older must have rankled, because Akasha glared at Northman, though he didn't seem to care.
"You all seem confused about something," said Alucard lazily from where he was lounging on a couch in the corner. His red eyes were hidden behind his round dark glasses, but the target of his gaze was made clear through sheer animal intensity, and I saw Akasha and Northman both shudder at his attention. "No one asked you who will bind the Pact. You were TOLD who the binder will be."
He stood, his demeanor more serious and regal than I'd ever seen it. "Seras is my protege, and her talent exceeds all of yours. Even as a first order Elder she would be the strongest vampire in this room aside from the Masters and possibly Red Hand. It is MY will that she be the binder, and if any of you have a problem with it, you can leave. You're being INVITED to join the pact, which you're all well aware will provide power to more than just Seras. So agree or get the fuck out, those are really your only two options."
Akasha's eyes were on the ground, as were Northman's and I noted that while Elders seemed willing to argue with older Elders, there was at least SOME hierarchy at play. When Masters talked, everyone fucking listened.
I hadn't actually been aware that Seras might become an Elder through the pact. Knowing my Rook would be getting such a huge upgrade, not to mention develop a new power, I was naturally excited for her. She deserved to see all this hard work pay off. Not to mention it would make her and all my other peerage members that much safer in battle.
To my surprise, after Alucard stepped in, nobody actually left. I'd been expecting someone to storm out, but he'd been right. They all wanted in on this Pact, they just wanted to be the ones to benefit. It made me think less of them that they'd been petty rough to bicker about this for so long despite standing to gain from it. Vampires, it seemed, were every bit as likely to fall victim to the trappings of politics as anyone else, if not moreso.
With everyone officially onboard, we moved on to the signing of the Grand Pact. Seras, fortunately, had known about her role for a while, and had been slowly writing the document out in her own blood for a few days now. Devils healed fast, especially vampire devils, so she was able to make small cuts, write a bit, then let it heal.
She placed the document on the table, allowing the others to read over it. It was pretty boilerplate. Shared mental resistance, a bit of shared power. Like Alucard said, everyone would benefit from the three Masters signing, though as the binder (the person whose blood the pact was written in) Seras would gain the most. The vampires would help us destroy Voldemort, and then the pact would dissolve.
The last part was important. While they were all here because of the potential power, the Grand Pact was also a definite risk. The ritual involved a massive amount of power, and if the wording was off it was possible for it to permanently bind every vampire present, and even potentially their descent lines.
After confirming that nobody was getting eternally enslaved, the vampires lined up and one by one, began to cut themselves and sign their names on the roll of parchment. After the Elder's went (Roran last, apparently the power of the signatories went in ascending order), Phantomas stepped forward to sign, and there was a burst of terrible sanguine power as the contract started to burn with bloody fire.
The parchment wasn't damaged by the flame, more like nurtured by it, and when Zellman stepped up to sign, the fire intensified. To my surprise, when he signed, the flames took on actual heat, and when Alucard stepped up and signed, the flames turned a burgundy color, with flickers of lighter red dancing in the bloody light.
Finally, with everyone already having signed, Seras stepped forward. She picked up the document, ignoring the fire, rolled it up, and then…she ate it.
Well, more like slid it down her throat like a sword swallower. But once it disappeared into her mouth, she threw back her head and screamed, dark red fire erupting from her mouth, eyes and nose.
I moved to grab her, but Alucard stopped me. As I watched, blood began to seep from her skin, congealing into some sort of cocoon. The dark red fire blazed within it, flickered and jumping, making the thing look like some kind of oversized magical heart as it beat with the pulse of ascending life.
Alucard nodded. "Good, it worked. I was worried it might not be enough to get her through Initiate. She's going to be a magnificent Elder. And based on the manifestation of the Pact, she might just inherit Zellman's little trick." At my questioning glance, he smirked. "Zellman is pyrokinetic. He has Ifrit in his ancestry. All the talented vampires have nonhuman lineages of some kind. Phantomas is part troll, and Roran has fae blood."
I obviously knew Alucard's, but it made sense. It also meant that Seras was the most talented vampire on the planet aside from the one in front of me.
Pyrokinesis was an impressive power though, and I was excited to see if she ended up with that. Based on the dark red flames she might even have a unique kind of demonic fire ability, something like her own clan trait, and that was an exciting thing for me to think about. Maybe as her King I could learn it.
Roran turned to the other vampires. "The binding is in process, it will be complete with her ascension. Until such time as that happens, please feel free to adjourn to the parlor. I have a selection of virgins. Apologies to anyone with religious dietary restrictions, they're mostly nuns and priests. Adult virgins outside the clergy are a rarity in this day and age." He clicked his tongue. "What IS the world coming to?"
He pointed behind us to a large set of double doors (the basement was expanded with magic, being much bigger than it should be. The other vampires seemed delighted and everyone funneled out of the room into Roran's "parlor". Since I didn't drink blood, I just pulled up a chair and dropped down next to Seras's cocoon. To my surprise, Alucard joined me. He pulled up a chess board, and the two of us began to play a game while we waited. It was nice not to be quite so bored, at least, even if I lost every fucking game.
June 28th 2013, Rome, Italy, 5:00 PM BST
In order to properly execute our plans, we needed the vampires to be organized. Zellman, to my surprise, took charge of that particular task, leaving me free to ask Alucard for a favor. I needed him to make me an introduction to yet another faction I was hoping to recruit. Namely, the Roman Catholic Church.
Iscariot were dicks, but they were dicks with a long track record of putting down all manner of nasty undead. I refused to believe even that nutcase Anderson had enough of a hate boner that he was willing to doom the world to death by evil ghost god because he didn't like the person asking. So, I decided to bring my information to them (curated slightly to avoid any possible betrayals) and see if we could get them onboard for the distraction battle.
"You sure it's safe to do this in public?" I ask the red coated vampire. He was sitting back, swirling a glass of wine and smacking his lips loudly as we waited for our food. "Last time things got messy. Is he going to attack us right here?"
"He probably would," admitted the youngest Master vampire in the world. "But they'll send one of his minders. They'll keep him on his leash. Not that I don't think this is a waste of time. Because it is. But hey, I get free wine, and I have an appointment later with this hooker I know. Used to be a nun. Fantastic on her knees."
I snorted. "You're a lot more casual when you aren't around other vampires," I pointed out.
"Oh, that," he waved his hand. "Phantomas and Zellman get all butthurt when I don't "comport myself with dignity", so at official gatherings I have to act all stiff and formal. I may be a devil, but those bastards are ten times my age, and both masters. Their bloodlines make them genuine nightmares to deal with, and I'd rather just avoid the hassle. Oh, food's here! This place has the best linguine."
Sure enough, a waitress arrived with two plates. I'd gotten the raviolis, but Alucard went with linguine and clams. Swirling it around his for a bit, he shoved the bite into his mouth and slurped up the noodles loudly. His glasses were down the bridge of his nose, so his eyes were visible enough to wink at the waitress, who blushed and scurried away.
I just rolled my eyes, taking a bite of my raviolis. They were fucking fantastic, admittedly, and we just sat and chowed down for a few minutes, until our pleasant meal was interrupted by the door opening.
Glancing up, I saw a pair of people enter. One, a familiar enormous blonde man with shaggy hair and a five o clock shadow, had to stoop to get through the door, but the man who followed him in didn't have any such problem, being, if anything, much shorter than most people at about five six.
"Enrico Maxwell," Alucard murmured under his breath. "Bishop of the holy church. He's a pompous ass, and particularly fanatical. Our odds of this working just went down."
Maxwell, who had an extremely punchable face, a prematurely grey ponytail, and a pretty boy face that made him look like someone's grandpa after plastic surgery, strutted through the restaurant like he owned the place. Arriving in front of us, he looked down his nose at me. "Ah, the abomination," he said in a smooth Italian accent. "I had heard of your cursed existence."
"Ah, the bishop," I responded genially. "I heard you were a fucking douchebag. Seems like we're both totally up to date."
Alucard snorted into his linguine, muffling his laughter as Anderson…tried to hide a smile. Apparently the Judas Priest didn't like the Bishop any more than I did. To know him was to hate him I supposed, and I doubted that would go away. "You know why you're here?" I asked them both after the tension settled a bit.
"HIs holiness agreed to one request after you stopped sending those damned pigeons," he told Alucard snidely. "And taking this meeting repays it. Are you coming to complain about the undead outbreaks? Because England is Protestant territory."
"Ireland isn't," I pointed out. "That's where we first met. But more importantly, this is about more than undead." I revealed what we'd learned from Ravel, about Voldemort looking for Fletcher Renn to open a portal for the Faceless Ones to return. He was delaying to get into a better position, but I got the feeling they wouldn't be naive enough to TRUST that bastard, and that they had some way of making him follow through.
By the time I finished, Maxwell's smug expression had faded, replaced by cold resolve. "We will look into this," he said firmly. "But should it prove to be true, what is it you wish of us? We can't justify an outright war in the public eye. Even Iscariot has to obey Holy Law, and we are under strict commandment not to reveal the existence of the supernatural to the world at large."
"Even if that world is fucking ENDING?" I asked incredulously.
"We endeavor to protect the souls of our flock," said the self righteous Bishop. "Not merely their flesh. To reveal the existence of the unclean would be to shake the faith of humanity. Millions might fall from their faith, entering eternal damnation as they're misled by corruptive modern influences. Not to mention we don't even know if your story is true. Your kind are embodiments of lies and half truths."
I snorted. "Wouldn't that be convenient. But no, world's ending. Get onboard or get out of the way Maxie-pad. We want Anderson and the rest of Iscariot. We've got an action pending against the lich, but we need more manpower. All we need from you is to go where we tell you and do what you do best. Cleanse the world of evil."
Maxwell smirked, clearly about to say something he thought was clever, but Anderson cut in. "Agreed." Maxwell spun to glare at him, but the big priest just glared right back. "I'm not your dog, Maxwell. I do the Lord's work. Heathen gods trying to force their way into this reality to feast on the souls of the faithful is an affront to the sanctity of His word. This world belongs to the children of man, by His will, and so by His will it shall remain in their hands. So shall it be." He crossed himself.
Realistically, his fanaticism was much less off putting when it wasn't aimed at me. Not that I was sure he could even hurt me much anymore. According to my booklet damage from things like light energy scaled based on your power. As a devil right on the edge of High Class, his bullshit little bayonets probably wouldn't even sting.
That reminded me of what Alucard had said when we first met him, that the holy blades just tickled. I'd assumed he was just shit talking, but he was probably a higher class of devil. Mid or maybe even high class after so long building his power. Seras was still in her cocoon, but I was curious to see exactly how strong of a devil she was after reaching Elder level. I'd considered she might go up in class, but this made it seem much more likely.
Maxwell, clearly furious but unable to directly refute any of Anderson's bullshit, just seethed for a minute before forcing his face to smooth out. "Father Anderson," he said peacefully. "You misunderstand. I would never leave so many of our flock in distress. I simply wished to emphasize the importance of maintaining a low profile during our collaboration.
"If his holiness finds merit in their claims, of course we would do our utmost to protect the people." His tone was almost sickly sweet, and very obviously disingenuous. Anderson, not being a fucking idiot, obviously didn't believe it either.
Still, this was his boss, so seeing the slippery fuck back off he nodded. "As we should. It doesn't matter if we have to work with abominations, undead parasites, or even Protestants, protecting the people is the Lord's work." He hung his head. "His will be done." Then he looked up at us mischievously. "Of course, once that's done you fucking monstrosities are next on my list. Just see if I don't purify you infernal filth."
Maxwell smirked, clearly at least happy his attack dog still attacked, even if he didn't do it on command. "Pass us your plan, and we will convey the information to his holiness."
I glanced at Alucard, but at his nod, sighed and told them as much as we'd agreed to let them know. We gave them a very vague area for the operation, left out any mention of the godslayer weapons, and were very vague about the number and strength of the vampires involved.
While I believed they would help, I didn't trust them not to stab us all in the back and steal the weapon. If it could kill Voldemort it might kill ME, which I was obviously very against. I'd take that thing, use it, and then stick it in a cliff face on fucking Mercury or something. Point to point teleportation over any distance was broken as hell sometimes. I could ensure that thing wouldn't see the light of day on earth ever again without much trouble.
After agreeing to pitch our idea, the two of them got up and left. I glanced at Alucard. "So, what are the chances they'll try to betray us?"
"About a hundred and fifty percent," he mumbled around a mouth full of linguine. "Why?"
"No reason, just confirming," I laughed. "I'll have them meet up with the wizards and sorcerers for the fight. They have an understanding right?"
After returning from our meeting with the vampires, we'd been informed by Dumbledore that a subset of the wizards were hoping to join. The sorcerers we had with us were likewise enthusiastic about taking back our world, so we would have a lot more fighters than I'd expected.
Truth be told I didn't want them to come with us. They would probably die, and it would be sad, but it was their call in the end. All I could do was try to distribute my people to prevent the most deaths, though knowing they'd have so much cannon fodder did make me feel a bit better.
This former distraction was shaping up to be a full on fucking war, and I wasn't sure exactly how it was going to go. Still, we'd already come this far. This time three days from now Voldemort would be dead or I would. There was no other way out. Deep in my gut, my instincts churned, shifting from dread to exultation at the drop of a hat.
Whatever was going to happen, my power couldn't get a hold of it. This could end either way, and I think in some ways that was what I wanted.
"After we finish here," I told Alucard. "Want to help me track down the rest of your peerage? I'm awful close to high class, and if we can shove them all back in their box, I think it might put me over the edge."
He stopped eating, raising an eyebrow. "Really? Damn, kid, you move fast. I was a century old before I hit high class. But sure, I'll help out. Not like I have anything better to do."
"Except that hooker," I pointed out innocently.
"Well sure," he shrugged. "But if you think we're going on a ghost hunt before I get my balls drained, you're even dumber than Maxwell."
I just laughed, shaking my head as I tucked back into my own food. Deep down though, I was shaking with excitement. I was about to hit high class. With Val's new power manifesting, I was getting tons of energy from her every day, and this should put me over. Once I was there…well, I'd show Voldemort what a devil could REALLY do.
As usual, pat-reon has the advance chapters at that site /malcolmtent hope everyone enjoys. A heads up, there's maybe one and a half to two more chapters left in the story, so keep an eye out for the finale.